


(K)Not Exactly According to Plan

by Sugakane_01



Series: Expectations 'Verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And good times are had by all, Because Stiles is unaware he's being mated, Biting, But everyone is consenting, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, Mating, May read as dub-con, Possessive Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugakane_01/pseuds/Sugakane_01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding his mate is nothing like Derek expected.</p><p>He expected relief, a bone deep feeling of peace and contentment, whole hearted acceptance and soul freeing joy. Actually, given the last few years of Derek's life saying he expected anything good is a bit of an overstatement. Derek had hoped though. He'd hoped that when he felt that connection, was overcome by that urge to touch and mark and claim, and finally found his mate it would be a new beginning, a sign of better things to come.</p><p>Instead he found Stiles –hahaha hell no you can't know my first name-Stilinski and he's the complete and total opposite of what Derek thought he wanted in a mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(K)Not Exactly According to Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Не совсем по плану / (K)Not Exactly According to Plan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/905208) by [Niobeya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niobeya/pseuds/Niobeya)



> So my attempt to cure my writers block is officially a 'verse now. I don't really have any firm plans or anything for it, just kind of writing when the inspiration strikes. As I've said, I'm still getting my feet wet in the Teen Wolf fandom so constructive *keyword constructive* criticism is totally welcome. I think that I tagged appropriately but if I missed something please feel free to point it out.
> 
> Also: This may skirt the edges of dubious consent because of how the knotting occurs and Stiles being unaware that he's being claimed. If you're sensitive to issues of consent or easily triggered just please be aware going forward that this might be uncomfortable in parts.
> 
> * * *

Finding his mate is nothing like Derek expected.

He expected relief, a bone deep feeling of peace and contentment, whole hearted acceptance and soul freeing joy. Actually, given the last few years of Derek's life saying he expected anything good is a bit of an overstatement. Derek had _hoped_ though. He'd hoped that when he felt that connection, was overcome by that urge to _touch_ and _mark_ and _claim_ , and finally found his mate it would be a new beginning, a sign of better things to come.

Instead he found Stiles – _hahaha_ _hell no you can't know my first name_ -Stilinski and he's the complete and total opposite of what Derek thought he wanted in a mate.

Stiles is loud and obnoxious and kind of an asshole. He's pushy, mouthy, and far too smart for his own good. The kid is spoiled and sarcastic and Derek is ninety percent sure Stiles is deliberately _trying_ to give him grey hairs because he can't seem to follow orders for shit. He's reckless, impulsive and constantly throwing himself right into the middle of supernatural showdowns as if he has any business being there. Still, Derek knows that Stiles isn't all bad; he's incredibly brave and stupidly loyal. He's shrewd and sharp and will play dirty and fight hard for the people he loves. He's quirky and capable, pragmatic and just the right mix of idealistic and realistic. He's suffered enough loss to _understand_ but not _pity_ and he's willing to fight for what he believes in even when the odds are stacked against him. Stiles refuses to live in fear, isn't afraid to fail, refuses to let his bad experiences leave him bitter or jaded and to Derek's eternal damnation-he's trustworthy.

Stiles is also seventeen, the Sheriff's son, blissfully unaware of his own beauty and all of it makes Derek want to fuck him through the mattress, down to the floorboards and possibly all the way into the _ground_.

Derek isn't sure if he should laugh, cry or howl in rage that of all the people in Beacon Hills that he could have been mated to his instincts drove him towards the underage son of the goddamn Sheriff and the biggest pain in the ass that he's ever met. The only way things could have possibly been any worse was if it had been Allison Argent. That would have been a nightmare that Derek doesn't even want to _begin_ to imagine. Derek's been down that particular highway to hell and he doesn't envy Scott having to deal with that family's twisted brand of fuckery and psychosis. Still, Stiles being better than an Argent-just barely-isn't saying much.

So no, this whole mate situation isn't a complete disaster but it's a near thing. On the plus side, he and Stiles have mutual interests and friends, work well together (usually after a no holds barred battle royale where Derek either forces Stiles to do what the hell he's told or Stiles forces Derek to scrap his plans and do it Stiles's way), they trust and respect each other and are scarily compatible when they aren't circling each other like two roosters in a cock fight. There's a certain level of affection between them and there's attraction. Derek is most _definitely_ attracted to Stiles-the boy is all pink lips, pale skin, long limbs and whiskey warm eyes that Derek could get lost in if he let himself and Derek knows the feeling is mutual. He knows what he looks like, uses it when he has to, and he knows that Stiles likes what he sees. He also knows that Stiles is a seventeen year old bundle of hormones and bad decisions that _has no idea_ what he'd be in for if Derek ever pushed, just a little bit, and picked up what Stiles was unconsciously throwing down. So Derek decides he'll play things smart. He'll take his time, allow Stiles grow up and mature, have some normalcy before he pulls him further into the world of the supernatural with talk of mates and promises of forever. Hopefully in that time he and Stiles can settle into something a little less volatile and a little more stable, a slow burn as opposed to a raging inferno. Derek has a plan and Derek intends to stick to that plan.

Derek should have known better. Nothing ever really goes the way Derek wants it to, especially when it concerns Stiles.

Why should claiming his mate have been the exception to the rule?

He's buried balls deep inside of Stiles and Derek hasn't even so much as taken him out for dinner and a movie. They aren't a couple, not even close. He's never even hung out with Stiles one on one unless stakeouts, strategy planning, or training sessions count and Derek is pretty sure they don't.

Derek doesn't know why he thought things would happen any differently. He and Stiles are push and pull, inevitable and inescapable, flint and fire and Derek should have known that they'd ignite sooner as opposed to later. He should have known that it would be _exactly_ like this-passionate and completely spontaneous. When he thinks about it, it's almost poetic that they went from fighting to fucking. He'd had Stiles pinned to the wall, telling him he _didn't give a fuck about his spark_ , that he could be _a fucking fireball for all he cared_ and that he'd _disembowel_ him if he even so much as _thought_ about infiltrating the coven of witches that had recently set up shop in Beacon Hills. He let Stiles know that Derek was his _Alpha_ and Stiles would _do what the fuck he was told_. Stiles, in true Stiles fashion, reacted to that with narrowed eyes and cutting words. Reminding Derek that he's _saved his hairy ass_ on more than one occasion, that _he could take care of himself_ ,that Derek _may have been his Alpha but he wasn't his keeper_. He'd coolly informed Derek that he wasn't one of his Betas and _Derek couldn't make him submit with the red eyes of fury and a few well placed growls._ None of it was anything new; they've had variations of the same argument dozens of times because that's who they are and that's what they do. They snap and snarl, make points and counterpoints, criticize and eventually compromise because no matter how heated things get they never lose sight of the fact that they share the same end goal. They don't have years of easy friendship and unwavering devotion between them like Stiles and Scott or share an instant connection and understanding like Allison and Lydia but what they do have is the soul deep assurance that neither one of them would ever do anything to hurt, harm, or unnecessarily risk the other. He and Stiles don't have scheduled "bro time" or call one another just to say hello but they don't need to. Derek knows that when he does call, Stiles will drop _everything_ and be there when he needs him. They are brothers in arms, bonded by their love, loyalty and devotion to the pack and to each other and for Derek that matters far more than the fact that he and Stiles haven't shared a shitty meal at Olive Garden and spent two hours sitting next to each other in near silence in a dark theater. They don't need to date. Dating is so people can get to know each other and he knows Stiles, inside and out. So yeah, there's a certain amount of rightness in the fact that one minute he was shoving Stiles up against a wall and the next minute he was stripping him bare.

The thing about Stiles is that he's stubborn and brave and always so sure that he's right that Derek can't help but test him sometimes, prove him wrong just to make his heart race and his blood heat, snap at him just to see how hard he'll bite back. Derek knows that Stiles doesn't like boundaries; he's always trying to find a way _over_ , _around_ or _through._ Stiles won't take no for answer, won't do what he's told unless he knows why and while that kind of curiosity can be and has been an asset, in the wrong situation it's going to be what gets Stiles killed and Derek cannot allow that. Stiles needs to learn to _listen_ and to _obey_ and to _recognize and respect his limits_ so Derek cages him in just to see how many different ways Stiles will try to break out. When Stiles challenges him, Derek rises to meet it. When Stiles oversteps his bounds, Derek is there to put him back in his place. When Stiles tests him, Derek makes damn sure he passes because that's what he's supposed to do. Derek does these things for himself, for his pack and _for his mate_.

Stiles has proven himself worthy of Derek a hundred times over and Derek can do no less than be the best man, the best Alpha, the best _mate_ he can be for Stiles.

And right now that means giving in and giving them both what they need. Stiles is in Derek's home, in Derek's bed, and the _sounds_ Stiles keeps making and the way Stiles _yielded_ to him, the way Stiles feels _underneath him_ and _wrapped around him_ has left Derek unable to censor himself. It feels like he'll break apart if he doesn't let Stiles know, doesn't make Stiles _feel_ , just how important this is to Derek, just how important _Stiles_ is to Derek.

Derek is on top of Stiles, pinning him down to the mattress with his weight and his hands and Stiles's own willingness to _allow_ Derek to hold him down. Stiles is stretched out beneath Derek, long and lean and _his,_ both hands above his head secured in Derek's grip, arching his back and offering Derek the vulnerable column of his throat. Derek can't help the smug sense of satisfaction that comes from the sight or the way he leans over Stiles and _bites,_ branding his claim into Stiles's skin. Stiles teases him all the time about being a man of few words but Derek can't seem to keep his mouth shut right now. He's confessing all his sins; telling Stiles how long he waited for him _-I knew the moment I saw you but it wasn't until that night in the pool that I accepted it and started to need you, to want you-_ how Stiles belonged to him – _you're mine, just mine, no one else's_ -, and how Derek was going to claim him- _bite you, mark you, tie you to me, keep you forever_.

Derek knows Stiles doesn't understand, not fully. He can smell lemongrass and ginger underneath the cardamom and sandalwood scent of arousal and he knows that Stiles is confused, that the boy's brain hasn't quite shut down and he has questions. Derek knows that he should stop this, rein himself in, sit Stiles down and give him some answers but he _can't_. The world could burn down around them and Derek wouldn't stop _, couldn't_ stop.

Derek's operating on pure instinct and primal need and the only thing he knows for sure is that unless Stiles asks him to he won't be able to stop. Derek doesn't think Stiles will be asking that of him anytime soon though, not from the way he's opening up so beautifully for Derek and begging him with his body and his words _not to stop_. Derek thinks that Stiles might want Derek almost as badly as Derek wants Stiles.

 _Almost as badly_ , Derek thinks, because if Stiles had wanted Derek _as_ badly as Derek wanted him they would have wound up here long before now. Derek isn't sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Not that it matters because they're here now. The fluffy down pillows that Isaac had insisted Derek needed are in a pile on the floor. The sheets with the ridiculously high thread count that Lydia bullied him into getting have come free from one corner of the mattress and there are tiny rips in them from Derek's claws. The blood red comforter that Erica forced him to buy is in an unceremonious heap at the foot of the bed, his headboard is probably knocking a dent into the wall behind it and the brass monstrosity of a lamp that Peter had insisted "fit the décor" is being steadily bumped closer and closer to the edge of the nightstand and-

Derek never liked that lamp anyway.

Even if he had, he wouldn't stop. Stiles is all slick, tight heat and Derek's brain is stuck on an endless loop _of take, claim, fuck, mate, mine._ Derek sinks his teeth into Stiles's neck-taking extra precaution to make sure they stay blunt and human,-grips Stiles's thighs hard enough to leave bruises behind and continues to drive himself into his mate's body. He's already made Stiles come once, but he's bound and determined to do it again.

And again.

Derek knows that Stiles needs more, _wants_ more and he's determined to give it to him. Stiles is gasping and writhing underneath him, _calling out Derek's name_ and telling him _how good he feels_ and _begging him not to stop._

As if Derek could stop. As if Derek could deny Stiles anything.

Stiles is trusting him with his body, trusting Derek not to push him too hard or take things too far and Derek is acutely, painfully aware of the weight of that trust. He respects what it means, for Stiles to allow himself to be this vulnerable, this exposed and he's determined to make sure Stiles doesn't regret it, doesn't regret _him_. Derek wants to make this good for Stiles, to make sure that Stiles feels _valued_ and s _pecial_ and _cherished._ He doesn't ever want to Stiles to feel used, not for a moment does he want Stiles to doubt that he's more than a body or a means to an end to Derek. He never wants Stiles to look back on these moments with shame. He knows he should probably be gentler, go slower and he will. Later. After. But right now he's consumed with the need to _take Stiles_ and _please Stiles_ , take him apart and put him back together again, make him his and keep him close. Derek is pushing himself into Stiles, hard and deep, and telling his mate, his pretty lionhearted reckless boy, _how perfect he is_ and _how he was made for Derek_. And when Stiles, sweet, unknowing, _wicked_ Stiles whispers back for Derek to _prove it, take him, make him his_ Derek loses it. He holds Stiles down and fucks into him harder, vowing _to never let him go_ , telling Stiles he _can't leave_ and promising if he ever tried there wouldn't be a corner in hell Derek wouldn't follow him into, that _he'd hunt him down, drag him home and fuck him until he learned that his place was beside Derek, underneath Derek, with Derek forever, for always._

And even though Derek knows-and he does know-that Stiles is fiercely independent and anything that Derek does will only be because _Stiles_ _allows it_ , its Derek's declaration of ownership that sends Stiles over the edge, _howling_ Derek's name and spilling out hot and hard between them. The _sight_ and _smell_ and _feel_ of Stiles's orgasm forces Derek to the brink. He pulls out, takes advantage of his speed and his strength and what's left of his control to flip Stiles over and puts him on his hands and knees before sliding back into that perfect place that's only ever belonged to him. Derek drapes himself over Stiles's body, and thrusts into him, deep, thorough, insistent pushes that force a faint ring of crimson to bleed around the edges of Derek's eyes as he comes, pulsing hot and thick inside of Stiles.

Derek knows that Stiles is spent. He's inexperienced, exhausted and he's trembling underneath him but he's still begging Derek _not to stop_. Derek doesn't even think Stiles is _aware_ that he's talking, telling Derek how much he _wants this_ , _wants him_ , how he never even knew that Derek was a _possibility_ and some convoluted nonsense about the rules of hotness and levels of attraction and how Derek is supposedly far out of Stiles's league and should be with someone better. As if there was anyone better for Derek.

As if Derek would ever want anyone else.

Derek's completely on autopilot; his entire worldview has narrowed down to a steady thrum of _mate claim mine_. Derek _wants_. He wants so _badly_ and needs _so much_ and he _can't think_ with the scent of their coupling in the air and the taste of Stiles on his tongue. He obeys his instincts, gives in to his urges, closes his eyes, grips Stiles's hips like he owns them, and presses in.

Derek slides in as deep as he can and holds still. He feels himself growing, getting harder and thicker as his knot swells inside Stiles. He can feel Stiles's heart rate rabbit up and he knows that Stiles knows what's happening (his clever, curious mate has read the Bestiary and asked far too many embarrassing personal questions not to) and once again Derek can't stop the words from tumbling out. "You feel so good. All that skin flushed pink, marked up and all mine. You're mine, Stiles. You know that don't you? You were made just for me and you take it so good, gonna keep you like this, fucked open and stuffed full, just for me, only for me."

Stiles slurs out his name and Derek presses a soft kiss into his shoulder blade. "Shh," he comforts him. "It's okay. Just breathe and relax. You're doing so good," he praises. Because it's true. Stiles is taking him so well, just like Derek knew he would. "Just a little bit more baby. Just take a little bit more," he purrs.

Derek knows that Stiles isn't exactly comfortable and hates that he's causing him any measure of pain but he also can't help feeling so proud and so very humble that this extraordinary creature in his bed is _his_. He keeps running his hands over Stiles's body, lavishing kisses on his skin and trying to hold as still as he can to reduce the discomfort. It might be more effective if _Stiles_ could stop moving. He's shaking, trembling, and every time he moves the nerve endings where they're tied together flare to life making them both groan.

Derek can smell it when Stiles starts to get aroused again, the want is thick in the air between them and it makes Derek more than a little smug that even though he's been thoroughly fucked and is being knotted Stiles still can't get enough.

Derek's relieved when the sharp notes of pain leave Stiles's scent. He takes them both and gently adjusts them so that Stiles doesn't have to struggle to stay upright anymore. He arranges them both on their sides.

And once he knows that Stiles is no longer in pain, he finishes making his claim.

He thrust his hips forward, sinking into the pleasure. His body is out of his own control and he's rocking into Stiles relentlessly, telling him what a _good boy_ he is, promising Stiles that _everyone will know_ , that _he'll mark him all up, knot him so good and fill him so full_ that they _won't even have to tell the pack_ , that they'll _smell him all over Stiles_ , _inside of Stiles_. Derek's knot is growing bigger, brushing against Stiles's prostrate with every roll of his hips and he slows down so that it's less animal instinct and more deliberate sensuality. Stiles feels so good, fits him so well, takes him just like a mate should and Derek can't stop _talking,_ promising Stiles that he'll give him _anything_ , share _everything_ -his name, his pack, the rest of his life. It isn't until he has reached out and wrapped his hand around Stiles's cock, sliding up and down the length and stroking him until he's a tortured, moaning mess that Derek realizes that he's talking about _collaring Stiles_ and _marrying him_ in the same breath. He bites down on the back of Stiles's neck, using his body to say all the things he can't find the words for. Stiles spasms and comes all over his hand, all over the sheets and that pushes Derek into his own orgasm. He's overwhelmed with the need to push in _deeper_ , fill Stiles _fuller_ , to leave a _permanent brand_ on the miles of soft pink skin that have never known another's touch as he pumps into Stiles, struggling not to close his eyes so he can watch Stiles take it as he paints his insides with his seed.

After he's emptied himself into his mate, he settles them, makes sure that Stiles is comfortable and revels in the feel of being locked together. Derek is hazy with pleasure and soaked in satisfaction and there isn't anywhere else, with anyone else, that he'd rather be.

Derek expects Stiles to start talking a mile a minute, making jokes or demanding explanations but he's blessedly quiet, probably too blissed out and exhausted to form a coherent sentence. It feels right that the only noise is the sound of their hearts beating in tandem as they come down from their highs.

Surprisingly, or maybe not given how the night has gone, Derek is the one to break the silence. He can't keep his hands off Stiles, even now that he's sated. He's compelled to touch. He runs his fingers through Stiles's sweat soaked hair, tugs gently and hums in approval that Stiles has foregone his usual buzz cut and grown the strands out so they're just long enough to twine around his fingers and pull. He lays butterfly kisses across Stiles shoulders, trails his tongue down the curve of his spine and sucks at the mouth shaped bruise-Derek's mark, _Derek's claim_ -at the back of Stiles's neck. Derek touches Stiles with all the gentleness he can muster and all the reverence Stiles _deserves,_ splaying his fingers out over Stiles's belly, stroking over the curve of his hip, squeezing and petting his thighs, the entire time telling Stiles that he's _beautiful_ , and _perfect_ , that he's _Derek's_ now and Derek will _keep him safe_ and _keep him happy_ and how _proud_ Derek is to _belong to Stiles_.

This isn't what Derek expected finding his mate would be like. He didn't expect Stiles, he didn't expect the complications or the challenges and he didn't expect that he'd be surrendering himself as he claimed another.

Derek didn't expect any of this.

He didn't expect it, didn't always welcome it, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> So there's that lol. I'm thinking these two boys need to have a serious chat, what about you guys?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this and feel free to come by my [Tumblr](http://St-Sebklaine.Tumblr.Com) and say hi or even leave ideas for what you'd like to see in this verse :)


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